by Macy Blake
“Can you keep an eye on things for a minute? I need to get more ice from the kitchen. The maker out here is on the fritz again.”
“Shaq just had it fixed.”
“I know,” Cody said. “But it’s almost empty. He’s going to have to call the repairman out again.”
“I’ll get the ice for you. And I’ll make sure it gets fixed right this time.”
Cody smiled up at him, but it wasn’t the beaming one he’d given to the faun earlier. It was a bit more hesitant, unsure. Guarded. “I’ll get it. I don’t mind. But thanks, Sol.”
Before Sol could protest that Cody didn’t need to be carrying such a heavy bag of ice on his own, Cody had slipped out from behind the bar and headed for the kitchen. Sol growled again. He took Cody’s place, making sure to give the faun another warning glare for good measure, before checking on everything else. All the bottles of booze were decently full. The beer fridge could use another six or eight of the fancy imported beer some of the regulars had asked Shaq to start stocking for them. Sol would grab some from the back once Cody brought the ice.
He started checking other areas when he heard a strange blooping noise. He paused and looked around, only to see Cody’s phone sitting on top of the beer fridge under the bar. He wasn’t trying to be nosy, but he could see the message plain as day as the phone lit up.
Answer me, boy.
What the hell?
Another bloop and the message changed.
If you don’t respond in five seconds, I’m going to beat your ass.
Sol growled, a red haze forming over his vision.
He grabbed the phone, prepared to crush it in his grip, when he caught the name of the app the notifications were coming from. Bear4Me.
What?
Cody was into bears? Solomon didn’t think he even knew their kind existed but….
He rolled his eyes and refused to smack himself in the head for his stupidity. Wrong kind of bear. It meant the male kind. Big, brawny, hairy. Human. That kind of bear.
The phone blooped again.
I’m going to make you beg me for forgiveness. You’ll be crying by the time I’m done with you.
“Order up!”
Walt’s yell was the only thing that brought Sol out of his anger-induced stupor. He put Cody’s phone down and stepped away from it without a moment to spare. Cody came out from the kitchen carrying the bag of ice. Solomon opened the cooler door before taking the bag from Cody’s hand. “I got this. Your phone was going nuts. You should probably check it.”
Cody rolled his eyes. “Thanks. It’s not important.”
Sol wasn’t so sure, especially not if the threats he’d read were real. He’d make sure no one laid their hands on Cody, though. Whether he knew it or not, Cody was pack. And no one would hurt a member of his pack, not while Solomon had a breath left in his chest.
Cody checked his phone while Solomon dumped the ice into the cooler. He heard the slight uptick of Cody’s heart, but he didn’t seem to be overly upset by the messages.
“And blocked. Asshole,” Cody mumbled as he pushed a few buttons and put the phone away.
His words were so low Solomon had barely heard them, but they brought him a semblance of relief.
“Sol?” He lifted his gaze to Cody and found Cody looking at him with a confused smirk. “Any reason why you’re standing there with the cooler door open?”
Sol closed the door and stepped back. “Thought I heard…something. With the…engine. In the cooler.”
Cody smiled at him before moving closer and using his hip to bump Sol out of his way. “We’ll take a look at it later, after closing. You’ll call the repair guy for me, though, right?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Sol. Oh, and Walt said he’s making you a chimichanga and to shut up about it? He’s particularly barky today and not making much sense. I think his date with Shelly didn’t go so well.”
Sol nodded. “I’m sure it’s fine. They’re finding their way.”
Cody sighed before grabbing a clean mug and starting to fill it with beer. “Yeah. It’s so sweet, right? I mean, they’ve been working together for years and suddenly bam! Dating.”
If Cody only knew that the bam had actually been Walt being turned into a hellhound. The transition hadn’t been easy for him, but Shelly had been right by his side. It seemed the bar’s best waitress hadn’t been oblivious to their secret. After years of working for the alpha of the hellhounds, she’d picked up a few things. It still made Sol laugh when he remembered that she thought they were werewolves.
Werewolves.
As if.
But her knowledge had helped when the bar had been attacked. She had handled the fallout like a champ, and that included dealing with their cranky cook’s sudden mood changes.
“Yeah, it’s sweet.”
Cody smiled at him again, and Sol couldn’t stop the little shudder that went through him. Drew had told him he needed to get his head out of his ass where Cody was concerned, but Sol hadn’t seen a path forward. They’d known each other for years, too. Just like Walt and Shelly. The difference was that Cody had no idea what Sol actually was, and Sol wasn’t sure why the human man got under his skin so badly. He went around the bar and to the window that led into the kitchen. Walt stuck his head out from behind the racks and glared at him.
“What crawled up your ass and died today?” Sol asked.
“Nothing. I made you a chimichanga, but I suppose you don’t want it. I can trash it, asshole.”
“Do and die.”
Walt tried to hold his scowl, but it turned to a smirk instead. He ducked around the corner and reemerged a second later with a plate loaded down with one of Sol’s all-time favorites. Crispy, crunchy, deep-fried and coated with Walt’s special queso and guac. Walt rarely made them, and then only….
“What do you want?”
Walt held the plate out of reach.
“What makes you think I want something?”
“Walt.”
“Look, I asked Shaq if I could have the weekend off. I know it’s shitty timing, but Drew and Ollie said they’d cover the kitchen for me, and you know I’m desperate if I let those two anywhere near my kitchen, right?”
Sol nodded, not liking where this was heading at all.
“Any chance I can borrow your cabin? I really want to spend some time with Shelly, but around here, it’s too much. I need quiet. And my place isn’t exactly—”
Sol held up his left hand while reaching into the front pocket of his jeans with the right. He tugged out his key chain and unwound the key from the ring. “One weekend only. And I’m doing this for Shelly. And my chimichanga.”
Walt grinned and handed him the plate. “Thanks, Sol.”
“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t mention anything that happens in my cabin at all. Ever.”
Walt smirked again before he turned his gaze to Cody. The smile faded and a worried frown took its place.
“He won’t eat,” Walt rumbled softly. “I even offered to make him some nachos.”
Sol turned his attention back to Cody as well. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks. For everything. Now get the hell out of my window. I’ve got work to do.”
Sol carried his plate to one of the empty booths at the back and found Izzy, their other waitress, cleaning off one of the tables nearby. “Can you handle the bar for a few? Cody needs to eat.”
“Sure, hon,” Izzy said. “It’s quiet tonight. I thought we’d be busier.”
They would be if Shaq and Drew showed up. They would eventually, and all the supers who were lurking nearby would flood into the bar to gasp with awe at his alpha and alpha-mate.
“It’ll be busy later, I’m sure.”
“Yeah. Now I’m going to go flirt with those cute boys at the bar, maybe make a few extra tips.”
She headed that direction, her short, blue-jean miniskirt baring an extra flash of leg for their benefit. It was funny, reall
y. Izzy wasn’t a flirt and didn’t date at all, but she did like teasing a little in the safety of the bar. She knew she was safe here. They’d set a strong example a while ago when an idiot human had decided it was a good idea to smack her ass. Shaq had terrified the guy, and then it had been Sol’s turn.
Needless to say, the asshole wouldn’t be showing his face around the bar anytime soon. Sol might have made sure to get his name and address, too, and if shit had happened to go wrong for him quite a bit over the following weeks, well that’s what he got for being a misogynistic prick who thought it was okay to lay his hands on someone without their permission.
“Cody!”
Cody turned his way, a puzzled frown on his face.
“Break time. Come here.”
Cody didn’t seem pleased but left Izzy manning the bar while he came back to Sol’s booth. “It’s not time for my break.”
“Yeah, it is. Sit down.”
Cody sat. Sol pushed the plate into the center of the table and gestured to the fork and knife balanced on the edge of the plate.
“Eat.”
“I’m not—” Cody couldn’t even get the words out before his stomach growled. He sighed and looked up.
Sol arched a brow at him, daring him without words to finish his sentence.
“I’m trying to watch what I eat,” Cody said.
“Why?”
“Because I need to lose some weight.”
“No, you don’t.”
Cody sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He was right. Sol didn’t understand. “Try me.”
“It’s just…I mean, now that Shaq has Drew, and they’re…ugh, perfect. I wanted to find my Shaq, you know? I mean, Drew says that just because Shaq wasn’t meant for me it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there who is. He says I have to take care of myself, and then I can find what I’m looking for.”
Sol tried to process, but still came up short. “And how does taking care of yourself equal not eating?”
Cody sighed. “I knew you were going to say that. I…want to look my best.”
“I get that. But your body needs fuel. So eat, and if you want to make some changes, then come talk to me and we’ll set some goals. Reasonable ones. You aren’t going to starve yourself.”
“I wasn’t starving myself, Sol. I brought a yogurt to have later.”
Sol arched a brow at him. His job involved being on his feet and moving for eight plus hours a night, and he thought a yogurt was going to cut it for dinner?
“Yeah, that’s not healthy. Eat. Today’s your official splurge day. It won’t be too bad if we share it. Besides, have you ever known me to offer to share my chimichanga?”
Cody’s mouth lifted into the slightest, barely-there smile. “No. And Walt doesn’t like to make them either. He must have asked you for a big favor.”
“He did. Share it with me. Come on.”
Cody took a deep breath and lifted the fork. “Okay.”
Sol nodded. “Good. I’m going to get another fork. Don’t steal all the guacamole. I’ll know if you do.”
Cody grinned and stabbed the fork into a chunk of avocado with a wicked grin. “I would never…”
Sol mock-scowled at him, but Cody’s laugh as he shoved the bite of guac into his mouth was worth it. He went to the side of the bar and grabbed another set of utensils and a stack of napkins.
“Here,” Izzy said.
“What?”
“Drinks for you two. Diet for Cody and lemonade for you.”
Sol scowled down at the soda, knowing its ingredients were toxic and wondering how humans could bear to ingest such a thing.
“One step at a time, Sol.”
Why did Shaq always have to hire the smartest women as waitresses? Sol grabbed the drinks and made his way back to the table. Cody lit up at the sight of the soda and slurped some of it down immediately. Disgusting. But Izzy was right, as always. He managed to get Cody talking a little while they ate, and before he knew it, they emptied the plate, and Cody stood to return to work.
“Thanks, Sol.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need help.”
Cody nodded and returned to his spot behind the bar. Sol stared after him, unable to look away. Cody got to work, but not before taking a quick look at his phone. Which reminded Sol. He grabbed his cell from his pocket and opened his contacts. They’d tried going the official route with the repairman, but he’d obviously done nothing to help. Cody needed that ice machine working correctly. It made his job easier.
“Hey, Sol.”
“Brooks. How’s things with the Jerrick pack?”
“Same old. Ollie hasn’t blown anything up this week, so we’re considering it a win.”
Sol couldn’t help but snicker. He didn’t envy the pack keeping all the kids in order. Even though they were grown now, the mischief was always right there waiting to happen.
“You deserve a raise.”
“I just got one,” Brooks said with a laugh.
“I’m calling to see if you’ve got time to make a trip to the bar and put those master fix-it skills of yours to work.”
“What’s the problem?”
“The ice machine under the bar isn’t working. We had a repair guy out, but it’s not working again.”
“Only if Walt makes me some wings.”
“He will.”
“Excellent. I’ll be there in a couple hours. I’ve got a job to finish up here, and then I’ll head your way.”
Sol ended the call, confident that Brooks would handle the issue for them. He’d known the handyman for years, ever since he’d first met the Jerrick pack. He’d even had Brooks do some work at his cabin. He stared down at his phone, suddenly taunted by an idea. He tapped his phone, glanced Cody’s way once more, and opened the app store.
Bear4Me
It was probably a bad idea. A really bad one.
Drew wouldn’t approve. Shaq would give him disappointed eyebrows.
Sol clicked the link anyway and installed the app.
It wouldn’t hurt anything to look. And maybe he’d gain some insights into Cody. That’s what Drew wanted, after all. And a happy omega meant a happy alpha.
Login or Join Now
Sol clicked the link, and a new member screen opened. He shifted nervously on his seat, looking around to make sure no one was paying any attention to him. The last thing he needed was some overeager faun looking over his shoulder and announcing to the world what he was up to. He quickly typed in the required stats but stopped when the time came to choose his screen name.
He had no idea what to call himself. He didn’t want to make it obvious who he was. It wasn’t a good idea. Too many of their kind knew his name. He looked around the room, searching for some random idea that would trigger some clever screen name that wasn’t too boring, but wasn’t trying too hard either.
“Hells bells!”
With a sigh, Sol tucked his phone into his pocket and walked over to the kitchen window.
“Problem?”
Walt stuck his head around the corner and growled. He was covered in… ketchup?
“Uh, Walt?”
“Goddamn ketchup bottle was stuck.”
Walt had forgotten his newfound strength and had given the bottle a gentle tap that wasn’t so gentle after all.
“Need help cleaning up?”
“Fuck off!”
Sol laughed and returned to his seat. He gave the patrons of the bar another once over, but everything was calm. Back to his screen name then. Walt’s exclamation stuck in his head. Hells bells. Well, he wasn’t going to be completely lame and use that expression but…he did like the idea of using hell in his screen name. The tease of it intrigued him.
He rolled the word around in his head.
CatchHell… no, that sounded like a venereal disease, although it was likely what he’d catch if Shaq found out what he was doing.
LivingHell… hell no. That wouldn’t exactly entice anyo
ne to want to get to know him better.
Hell Week. No. Just no. What was wrong with his brain?
Road to Hell. He needed serious help.
Hell’s Kitchen. No, but it was a funny name for the bar’s kitchen. He’d have to get a sign made to annoy Walt.
He was about to give up when a thought popped into his head. Hell Bent. He rolled it around in his mind and toyed with the implications. He was hell bent on finding out what was going on with Cody. And hell bent that no one would ever treat Cody the way the asshole from earlier had treated him. He also liked the double entendre. Because he sure as hell wouldn’t mind seeing Cody bent over the nearest surface.
Sol glanced toward the bar again, and Cody’s smile captured his attention. Of course, he was flirting with the fauns again, but much like Izzy, it was safe for him in the bar. Drew’s admonishment filtered through his mind again. He’d been asked to get to know Cody better. To understand what made him tick. It was unconventional, to say the least, but he suddenly had a feeling that his alpha-mate wouldn’t mind. He wouldn’t lie to Cody. Ever. And if the time came that they would meet up, Solomon would make sure he knew the truth in advance.
He continued to think, his finger hovering over the submit button. The door to the bar opened, and Shaq and Drew walked in. Cody’s eyes lit up at the sight of them, and Drew hurried behind the bar to pull him into a hug.
Sol hit the button.
Cody
Cody shivered as he left the bar, wishing he’d brought his jacket along. Every afternoon when he left for work, it was bright and sunny. Usually decently warm. But between midnight and two when the bar closed? Not so much. He drove home, trying to figure out what had been going on with Sol during his shift. The bar’s bouncer, and Meshaq’s right hand man, had been acting weird all night. Then again, Cody had never been his favorite person. Sol always made him feel like he was bothersome. Just the way he wanted to make a drop-dead gorgeous guy feel. Like an annoying fly who needed to be swatted away. It wasn’t anything Cody wasn’t used to. He’d somehow taken on the role of annoying fly to most of the people in his life. But then Sol had shared his precious chimichanga. It was like… he wanted to suddenly be friends after years of keeping his distance. It made no sense. Drew had probably yelled at Sol for being so cranky all the time. It made much more sense.